Mirror Illusion
by Allekha
Summary: Show business is ruthless and terrible, and the only reason Haru can put up with it even to reach their far-off idol is that Aki is right there with him. (Beppucest)


A/N: Written for ried for Relation Shipping 2016; late October/November hit me like a hurricane and I forgot to crosspost after authors were revealed.

* * *

They really don't have anyone but each other.

Their father signed all the agreements without looking at them once they were old enough, and now they hardly visit the old six-mat apartment to see him. Dadacha is kind and feeds them and makes sure they always get to appointments (singing and dancing lessons, business meetings, rehearsals) on time, but he isn't their father no matter how hard he acts like it. The producers at Galaxy TV come and go, as do the heads of the various projects the work on. Gourar is... but they're not on Earth.

So why should the two of them be apart now? Dadacha gives them separate rooms (certainly the house is big enough), but Akihiko's ends up as storage for his calligraphy supplies as they both crowd into Haru's bed at night, like they're children snuggling under the same futon together. They sit together at meetings and stand together at rehearsals. It's fine by them.

But not by everyone, apparently. They're filming for the next episode of a drama Dadacha signed them on to. Even they can tell that the script is crap, and the lead actress appears to be doing her best to get through it without having her career ruined. They stand off to the side of the set, awaiting their turn, not even bothering to look at the scripts again, as she makes her way through her stilted lines with overdone sincerity.

"Next!" the director finally yells. "Aki, Haru, you're on – and would you _stop_ holding hands for once, are you children?"

Startled, Haru's first response is to tighten his grip even further and snarl something back. The only thing that stops him is Aki's breath on his ear. "Haru," he murmurs, a warning that they need to be polite to this idiot, as he disentangles their hands and steps forward.

The lead actress rolls her eyes. It's not the first or even fifteenth time the director has yelled at someone today. "It's normal for siblings, isn't it? At least on Earth."

"I don't _care_ ," the director growls. "It's creepy." Before the argument can go anywhere else, he turns to start snapping at a camera operator instead. The actress shakes her head and smiles at them thinly.

Haru secretly steams about it for the rest of the day (how is it creepy? It's just a way to express their affection and give each other some warmth and comfort!), through the rest of filming and through Dadacha coming to pick them up and through dinner. The only reason he doesn't completely lose his temper is that Aki distracts him, holds his hand in the car on the way home. When they've finally gone to bed, Aki strokes his hair and says, "Don't get worked up over that idiot."

"I know," Haru says, and he snuggles further into Aki's shoulder.

"He just doesn't like twins, you know. Or anybody who looks too similar."

He pulls his head back just enough to see Aki's face. "Really?"

"On most of his productions, he doesn't tries to not even cast too many people of the same _species_. If the plot didn't demand twins, he wouldn't have looked at us twice." The line of Aki's sneer is sharp and fascinating.

"So he's got some weird complex?" He snorts and burrows back into the warmth of Aki's shoulder. "I can't wait until this stupid show is done."

~!~

He gets his wish: less than a couple of months later, the abysmal ratings force the show to end early. Thankfully, their music is starting to take off, and after finishing up their new album, they're going to go on tour. This entails more endless meetings, but at least not with anyone absolutely insufferable.

"Get them closer together," the woman in charge of all of their graphic design says to the photographer. "We want to play up the theme of contrasts."

She looks pleased when they finish, showing the images on the camera off to Dadacha. "I'll probably go with this one," she says, pointing; they're supposed to be changing back into their normal clothes, but they sneak around behind and lean in to see instead. The photo is one of them standing almost back-to-back, their bodies pressed together from shoulder to heel, as they grin widely at the camera and tilt their microphones up towards their teeth. "Fans go crazy over things like this," she tells Dadacha.

"Don't you think they're a bit young for..."

"It's all fake, so it's doesn't matter, right?" She turns the camera off, and then they start talking about the boring facts of the cover, like where the text should go and what colors and blah blah blah. Haru drags Aki out to go change before they die of boredom.

"What do you think he meant, we're too young for...?"

"I'm not sure." Aki frowns at his wrinkled shirt that someone didn't hang up properly, but puts it on anyway. "It's probably some weird alien thing." As he buttons his shirt up, Haru helps him smooth the wrinkles out, until he looks perfectly acceptable again.

That night, though, unable to sleep, Haru slips from their shared bed without waking Aki and finds his way in the dark to the bathroom, where he shuts the door firmly and turns the light on. In the full-length mirror by the bath, he fixes his bangs until they hang just like Aki's in the reflected image. The light is overly-bright and blue-white enough to make his eyes look pink, too.

He slips his nightshirt off, and only then can he see much of a difference. Aki has a small, faded scar on one shoulder from a childhood trip down a flight of stairs, and his own muscles are very slightly more defined – probably only because he has to walk around the garden checking on his bonsai collection every day – but that's it.

'Contrasts', the woman had said, and it doesn't make sense. _What_ contrast? They might be dressed slightly differently to play off the sun-and-moon theme of their names, but their costumes are always nearly identical, their faces are the same, their voices aren't that different... so what did she mean?

They aren't the same person, of course – Haru prefers the outdoors and living things, Aki the indoors and manipulating pretty words – but it's not like the designer knows that. Nobody knows that, because it's as she said: in this business, it's all fake.

He scowls at the mirror. He doesn't want to be contrasted against Aki, anyway. If they were truly that very different, wouldn't they grow apart eventually? Isn't it easier to live together if you're more similar? In fact, in like this, he could almost _be_ Aki; all that's missing is the ink on his fingernails.

The thought is surprisingly fascinating, and he leans in closer to the mirror, touching it with his fingertips. Now, it's more like Aki is trapped on the other side of the glass, following his every move, learning in closer and closer... on a whim, he presses his lips to the mirror, meeting the red eyes staring out at him. It's cool and hard and probably not like kissing a real person, but something about doing it while looking at Aki is-

"Haru?"

He jerks back from the mirror and scrambles to put his nightshirt back on. "In here," he calls, turning off the light and opening the door.

Aki meets him just beyond it. "Is something wrong?" he asks. "You were gone for a long time."

"No. I couldn't sleep."

Aki huffs. "You should have told me," he chides. "We could have gotten up and done something relaxing. Are you tired now?"

"Mmhm." He slides their fingers together and squeezes. Aki squeezes back and leads him to bed.

~!~

A couple of years later, it's easy to understand what the designer meant. First because of the way their choreography keeps changing to be more and more of a tease and less and less subtle; second, because Haru figures out how to get around the content controls Dadacha set up on the internet and promptly Oogles their names. Twincest really sells, apparently.

As do their pretty faces. Haru lounges on the couch and goes through a quiz on SpaceBuzz demanding that he declare whether each picture is of him or Aki. He gets 100%, of course – it would be a travesty if he couldn't – and is told that he is a true fan who 'probably spends too much time watching their videos'.

He sits up properly as Aki comes in, having just finished up with calligraphy given the sharp smell of soap drifting in with him. Haru offers the tablet with a smile and says, "Apparently, even our fans can have trouble telling us apart. How unobservant can you get?"

Aki takes the tablet and plops right next to him on the couch to poke at the quiz. "Now, Haru," he mock-scolds, "some people are simply unfortunate enough to be born with inferior senses and intelligence." Haru snorts and curls into Aki's side.

They don't really talk about it. Haru knows that he doesn't want to let them – the producers, the fans, everyone – take this away from them, the way they are. So what if they're touchy-feely even off set? They're twins. Brothers. They can act however they want. It doesn't mean there's anything wrong with them or the way they feel toward each other. Why _shouldn't_ they be so attached when they're so close?

Even if they were that way, Haru knows, it would be fine for _them_. They love each other, and Aki would never do anything to hurt him.

Really, even if they're doing all of this just to get to Gourar, to see their hero again, there's no way he could do this without Aki. The day-to-day bullshit isn't that bad, but then there are days like today when some snotty higher-up makes everything terrible.

The bastard has just insulted their singing ability, said that their 'themes' are all just a gimmick that won't last another five seconds, and told Dadacha to get them a new costume designer and while he's at it, a better lyric writer. Then he's standing an announcing he h as to be on his way to his next meeting before Haru can get over his shock.

Haru growls and reaches for the pot of... whatever hot drink it is today, thinking of nothing but how he wants to wipe that stupid expression of that idiot's face and surely scalding liquid is the best way to do it. Aki grabs his hand before it can reach the ceramic handle and pulls it under the table. He's whispering something, but it doesn't quite make it past the buzzing in his ears. He stands, ready to shout at this guy's back, but Aki pulls him down almost into his lap.

The guy leaves without getting what's coming to him. Dadacha is still staring after him in shock – so is everybody. Aki is the only one looking at him, the only one who cares how he feels. Haru gives up and drops his head to Aki's shoulder, wraps his free arm around him. "I hate him," he mutters against the stiff fabric of Aki's nice shirt.

"So do I," Aki whispers in his ear. "You can tear him apart all you like when we reach Gourar."

Right. Right. There's a reason why they're doing this. Just a little more, so Dadacha tells them, and they can swing a visit to Earth. Maybe get some production out of it.

Finally, _finally_ , everybody turns and rushes to reassure the two of them that they're doing just fine, their numbers are great, blah blah blah empty words meant to reassure themselves of their own future profits. Can't make money off the kids who get too depressed to force themselves to continue working. Haru's seen how that goes; he and Aki have personally witnessed more than one backstage breakdown of a fellow idol. It's what they get for not having someone to support them properly like he and Aki do for each other.

The rage ebbs at Aki's touch and understanding words, but they can't stay like that for the whole afternoon. By the time they get home, late after a mediocre takeout dinner stuffed between this and that, the anger has built again. Haru takes it out on his plants, ruthlessly cutting off every imperfection – leaves that have too many spots, branches just a bit too thin, flowers that might begin to wilt tomorrow.

"Haru," Aki calls eventually. "Come to bed."

He doesn't answer. He's exhausted, but he doesn't want to lay in bed and try to sleep. So he continues to work over the miniature pine. It's not really a pleasing shape, too symmetrical, but the more he cuts the worse it looks. Maybe he should just get rid of it, chuck it at the wall to see the pot explode into shards, the plant fall apart –

"Haru." Aki crouches next to him. "You know it's late, right?"

"I _know_." He throws the scissors aside. They're getting dull, anyway. He needs new ones. "It's – Aki, he was so –" He pushes himself into Aki and lets the rest come out as a frustrated gurgle.

Aki makes understanding noises and pulls Haru closer. His fingers press a little too hard into Haru's shoulders as he says, "Remember that time Maximum Gourar had to fight the flower monster?"

"I do. The one that was jealous of everyone else's good looks because he was so ugly, and Gourar told him he should give up on becoming beautiful and work on something it was possible to improve. I think he became an artist instead."

"That executive was no better than that monster, except Gourar isn't around to set him straight. So the best thing we can do is not let someone as petty as him get to us, and to shine even brighter instead."

"Together."

"Of course."

He smiles up at Aki, and Aki smiles back at him. The lights in here are turned dim, and in their natural yellow tinge, his eyes almost look red. It feels entirely natural to lean up and kiss him.

Aki's lips are soft and warm and nothing like the mirror, nothing like the fingers he's tried pressing against his mouth. Aki doesn't move, and when Haru moves away, he looks surprised, eyes wide and mouth still parted slightly.

Before Haru can really start to wonder if he was wrong – if they're a little more different than he thought they were – Aki smiles at him. It's the real, gentle smile that only gets turned on him, as Aki whispers his name and kisses him back. It feels good until Haru's palm slips on the stone beneath them and they tumble to the ground.

Aki shakes his head as they sit up and dust themselves off. "Let's go to bed," he says, and Haru takes his hand and follows him there.


End file.
